The Things We Did for Family
by Almedha
Summary: Is there anything you would not do for your family? Beware spoilers. My first real attempt at first-person. Spock's POV. (Khan's added.) Drabble attempting parallels. R&R?
1. Spock

We have done this to each other.

We have both failed in ways so colossal, it cannot be measured. There is no going back and this cannot be fixed. There is nothing that either of us can do, in the present or in the future. The past is final; death is final and leaves nothing. Nothing is left. Nothing but anger. But such a pale word to describe this… this thing. It drives me, like it drives you.

You understand it and you let it fuel you. The rubble of London, and now San Francisco, is a testament of the unspeakable things you can do with it. Rubble. What I am. Whatever this is. I have seen it destroy entire planets, as you will use it to destroy Earth if you can. If I let you. But I am unconcerned with your plans. I am not here to stop you. I am here to kill you. Saving Earth is merely an ancillary result.

But that was the goal the captain died for… Is it not right that you die, too?

_Right_? I no longer know what is morally right. I can tell myself whatever I want. I reason that the good of the many requires the death of one. You. And I will gladly do that good for the many. But this has nothing to do with reason. This is vengeance. But it is justice. And it _is_ right that you die.

And, if you are fortunate, you will only die once.

I have already died today.

I tried to end your life with my own hands when all other avenues were exhausted. First despair. Then grief. Next conviction. And now, I have no idea what grips me, this thing trying to kill you. What is happening to me? And why can I not kill you now that I see you right here in front of me? You are stronger by design, but I am stronger by a flaw.

This flaw that I cannot control.

And do you know what this is? Because I do. I know what this is. _Wrath_.

I make no attempt to control it anymore. Instead, it controls me. It feels no pain and no remorse. It is now. It is certain of what it must do, like you. It can kill and destroy with no second thoughts and no compunction. It is all I have, this and your death. And I almost did it. I could feel your life slipping away the way I watched from behind a thin glass as—_I cannot think._

And so I don't. I only act and hope later I won't remember what I've done. And if I do, I hope I remember the good of the many required you die.

But one voice, one of only a few lights that can reach me when the world spirals into darkness, stops me, saves you. "He's our only chance to save Kirk!"

Our only chance? You? Still, my unparalleled desire to kill you remains. But I want this chance more than I want to kill you. If it is my only chance, then you are lucky. You would be dead without it. Do I believe in luck? I must. It may be all I have left. But if you have felt a fraction of this, even just a particle in the universe of pain, then I will settle for that. I won't kill you.

I lied to you. I could not end seventy-two sleeping beings lives, defenseless, no matter how dangerous they can be. I saved them, and I almost regret it. But you have a chance. We both have a chance. This chance I gave to you, to keep your family safe. This chance you gave to me, to bring my family back.

So I let you live. I let you live and, for a single moment of clarity, see what I almost did. The things we both did. You would destroy a planet. I would destroy myself. The things we did for family. You cannot possibly imagine the fear that grips me when I realize we are one and the same. I realize with awful lucidity: you are my San Francisco, my London. I want more than your death; I want your suffering. How illogical, the things we have done for family, you and I. We would both kill for it.

The fog clears and things crystalize in the transport between one place and another.

But perhaps we are different after all, for I will let you live for it.


	2. Khan

_I hadn't planned to add anymore on to this, but a suggestion from zeynel got me thinking… So, thank you for the suggestion! I hope you like my execution of it. Also, thank you to the rest of you for your reviews and everyone who added this to their favorites. And SkoRn3d, thank you so much! I really have no words, but I think that's the best compliment I've ever received. ^^; Alright. Onto the Mr. Harrison…_

* * *

I ran.

It was my best option at the time, though I'm not accustomed to it. Though I was certain I could have incapacitated you had you caught me, I had no time for you. Racing through the shambles of this once-great city: I found it satisfying. My handiwork and yours together. We destroyed it together. Thank you, for that.

I don't know where I intended to go or how I thought I might escape, so I stop running. Only then did I realize I had lost it all. All I hoped to save was gone and I was the only one left. The only one of a race doomed to anonymity in this galaxy I had only known for a short time. They had not even seen it.

I don't know what it means to feel regret or sorrow. I know what those words mean, but I don't.

How funny; you know exactly what I mean, don't you?

Perhaps I was born to the wrong race. You and I: perhaps we both were. A Vulcan and a Human, so opposite, but not in the way any expected. The last of my kind, though; I don't know if there's anything I can do on my own. I could have ruled the world if only I were not alone. I could have bent an entire federation of planets to my will, but I am alone. Terribly alone, and you don't know what that means.

So I stop to face you.

At first I think how hilarious it is that you think you can stop me. Your strength and intellect are superior to a Human's, but I'm not an ordinary Human. You know that, you know I can and will kill you, and you come for me anyway. Others might call that courage, but I call it stupid. Stupid. Plain.

How… Human.

A moment later, I realize I am no longer merely toying with you, but only trying to hold my own. You come in on the offensive, and I wonder if you might have been expecting to die. I expected you to be subdued easily, too easily. But your onslaught is like… mine.

How… perfect.

I'm not alone after all. I've never seen an angry Vulcan before; and I come to see they might be every bit my equal. You've learned my secret and it's not my genes. It's not my ambition. It's nothing like that. It's my anger. I wonder how powerful Vulcans could be if only they could learn this, too.

I don't often fight for my life. I don't know if I ever have.

And before I know what is happening, even as I try to kill you, I hear words in my head—frantic words not mine that I can't ignore. _My mind to your mind_. I think how I don't want this, but your thoughts still brush mine. Not exactly thoughts… not exactly words. _Emotions_. I didn't know you had. You tell me everything, even those things you don't want me to know.

_They're alive_.

_He's dead_.

_How could that be right?_

_You must die_.

I don't quite know what it is you're telling me, but this can only last so long. A Vulcan educating a Human on pain in the span of a few seconds. Regret. Sorrow. An education in history: that a Vulcan could once kill with a thought. How you wish that you could do that to me. You're finished; your emotions overcome you and I can escape. Perhaps my strength. Your weakness. You don't know how to withstand it.

I run again. Your pain is what I want, my pleasure, so I leave you to it. Confident that I can hold you off should you come again, but I doubt that… I know your pain and it's paralyzing. You are not strong enough. But I realize only a moment later…

Neither am I.

I am caught. Nearly killed. I don't want to give up but I have little choice. I am the last of a great race, the last of my kind, the last and alone. But not so alone? _They're alive_? You did not kill them after all? What a mistake. You realize that, though. And you. You're alive, too. As long as you live—and you will; I can't stop you—you will carry on that thing that makes me… me.


End file.
